Chapter Five
BRYNN
The reception wasin full swing, a joyful tumble of clinking glasses and fairy lights strung over Sunset Siesta’s beach. Alone for a moment, I sat at the head table with a champagne flute in hand and took my first real breath of the day. The ceremony just down the beach had been beautiful, our toasts funny and heartfelt, and I had managed to get through my own speech without ugly-crying. Now, finally, with all the public-facing duties over, I could just be.
From my vantage point, I observed the happy couple. Holly and Josh were surrounded by admirers, lost in their own universe. My gaze drifted to the starlit tropical sky. It was absurd how much I didn’t want the trip to end.
I had a perfect view of Dean. He was circulating with a glass of whiskey in hand, effortlessly playing the charming Best Man—laughing with a group of Josh’s college friends, gracefully dodging a bridesmaid who was clearly on the hunt, even enduring a back-slapping hug from Holly’s uncle. He excelled at being exactly what the momentrequired. A pang of something I refused to name—envy, longing—twisted in my gut.
That line of thought ended with a thud when Todd Peterson sat across from me, clutching a plate of potato salad and looking like he’d spent the night fighting off wild dogs.
“Hi, Brynn,” he said glumly.
“Hey, Todd. You doing okay?”
He picked at his salad. “I think there’s Miracle Whip in this. I’m more of a mayo guy.”
“Rough.”
“Anyway, I wanted to say sorry if I was too forward the other night. Carol confirmed you have a boyfriend.”
I could have let him dangle, but he looked genuinely miserable. “Yes, I do. It’s okay, Todd. We’re all doing our best.”
He brightened a bit. “Yeah. Well, Carol’s taking me back to Atlanta tomorrow morning.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. “Safe travels, okay?”
He rose to his feet like a limp noodle. “You, too. Good luck with the boyfriend thing. He seems nice.”
Todd shuffled off, then detoured to explain to a baffled wedding guest that the reception's spotty Wi-Fi was likely due to interference from the kitchen's commercial microwaves. I exhaled a deep sigh. That chapter, at least, was closed.
I stared absently at the pier and its bobbing boats. I would return to Atlanta the day after tomorrow. But here, with the salt air in my lungs, I felt brave enough to imagine a different future. One with Dean? That might be a stretch, but tempting. Then another future flitted through my mind.
Doris’s words from yesterday echoed.“Ever thought about running an ice cream shop, honey?”
I’d dismissed it as another risk I wasn’t built for. But the memory of standing in the Scoop, the easy confidence I felt there… it was the one time this trip I felt at home. What if my life wasn’t about finding someone, but about building something? The thought was so big, so audacious, it made my pulse quicken. It was the scariest, most exciting idea I’d had in years.
A shadow fell across my table, pulling me back from my thoughts. Dean appeared, wearing a frown. With a sigh, he dropped into Todd’s empty seat and stared at the plate. He raised his head and arched a dark brow. “Did I just witness a breakup?”
“Only if you count Miracle Whip as a dealbreaker.”
“I don’t trust anything with that many syllables.” He smiled, something softening behind his eyes. For a moment, we were just two people, not actors in a farce. The thought was exhilarating and terrifying.
The DJ started the first dance. Holly and Josh swayed, lost in their own universe. I felt a pang of envy at how easy they made it look.
Dean followed my gaze. “You ever think about it?”
“This? Getting married?” I shrugged, forcing a laugh. “Maybe in another life.”
He studied me. “What’s stopping you?”
I wanted to tell him the truth—that I’d spent so long making myself small and safe that wanting more felt like a crime. That I was tired of playing it safe but didn’t know how to stop. Instead, I said, “I guess I never met the right guy.”
Dean grinned, lazy and wicked. “That’s a low bar, Vance.”
“You’d be surprised.”
He reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine,so brief I could pretend it didn’t happen. We sat like that for a while, the music wrapping around us. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t restless or looking for an exit. I was just present, accepting what might come.
